Tag Archives: ghosts

Sitrep

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Sitrep

Self imposed and static inertia

My late onsetted grief 

Such Purgatory bliss

Risk mitigation, of course.

 

Overthinking; the norm

Underwhelming; the courage 

Delayed ejaculation 

Fervor of imagination

 

Just waiting; 

Waiting;

Waiting;

What?

 

Boundaries blurred 

Panic heightened 

Lining up to begin and yet 

Wishing to know the end 

 

Mine, yours, ours, we.

Fucked it all; royally

Friends, family, strangers, lovers.

Crossed the lines, dot those tees

 

Stars fall, moons rise 

Watch the secrets 

In all their eyes 

Breathe in, blow out 

 

Fear first, then doubt;

Doubt;

Doubt;

Next!

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A poem to a ghost 2.0: Post-ghost writing….

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A poem to a ghost 2.0: Post-ghost writing….

In loving you I have loved myself

They are one in the same

tethering myself to you through the years

Love is a strength that grounds us

I needed to see myself as you see me

You are as I see you

I have anchored myself in that which is the you I have created

Through a glass, darkly

but you need to move on

I do, but not from you.  We have always been together.  Always.

I understand that now

into the beautiful ether…

Back from the beautiful, yet terrifying, ether.  This world is my ground.

Into the rest of your own experience

Don’t be silly, things are not so serious as we make them.

Souls united as ours cannot be separated

This is truth.

in truth

but the tie that binds can be undone

Quantum Mechanics, my darling

In loving myself I can love you

You can do both

but letting you go shall be my

True love is free, and unconditional.

most loving action for you.

*Original version published March 14th, 2012

**Bold written by someone besides me.

Sometimes, when I miss people I read other’s poems.

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Sometimes, when I miss people I read other’s poems.
THE CAP AND BELLS
by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
HE jester walked in the garden:
The garden had fallen still;
He bade his soul rise upward
And stand on her window-sill.
 
It rose in a straight blue garment,
When owls began to call:
It had grown wise-tongued by thinking
Of a quiet and light footfall;
 
But the young queen would not listen;
She rose in her pale night-gown;
She drew in the heavy casement
And pushed the latches down.
 
He bade his heart go to her,
When the owls called out no more;
In a red and quivering garment
It sang to her through the door.
 
It had grown sweet-tongued by dreaming
Of a flutter of flower-like hair;
But she took up her fan from the table
And waved it off on the air.
 
‘I have cap and bells,’ he pondered,
‘I will send them to her and die’;
And when the morning whitened
He left them where she went by.
 
She laid them upon her bosom,
Under a cloud of her hair,
And her red lips sang them a love-song
Till stars grew out of the air.
 
She opened her door and her window,
And the heart and the soul came through,
To her right hand came the red one,
To her left hand came the blue.
 
They set up a noise like crickets,
A chattering wise and sweet,
And her hair was a folded flower
And the quiet of love in her feet.

Missing a Ghost

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Missing a Ghost

I think on some level Adam Duritz and I are bipolar soulmates. His lyrics have spoken to me throughout the years in unexpected and evolving ways. Since I was 13 years old, I have experienced my life through August and Everything After to Underwater Sunshine.

Today, I am “raining in baltimore.”

This circus is falling down on it’s knees
The big top is crumbling down
It’s raining in Baltimore fifty miles east
Where you should be, no one’s around
I need a phone call
I need a raincoat
I need a big love
I need a phone call
These train conversations are passing me by
And I don’t have nothing to say
You get what you pay for
But I just had no intention of living this way
I need a phone call
I need a plane ride
I need a sunburn
I need a raincoat
And I get no answers
And I don’t get no change
It’s raining in Baltimore, baby
But everything else is the same
There’s things I remember and things I forget
I miss you I guess that I should
Three thousand five hundred miles away
But what would you change if you could?
I need a phone call maybe I should buy a new car
I can always hear a freight train Baby, if I listen real hard
And I wish, I wish it was a small world
Because I’m lonely for the big towns
I’d like to hear a little guitar
I guess it’s time to put the top down
I need a phone call
I need a raincoat
I really need a raincoat
I really really need a rain coat
I really really really need a rain coat
I really need a raincoat

A poem to a ghost:

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A poem to a ghost:

In loving you I have loved myself

tethering myself to you through the years

I needed to see myself as you see me

I have anchored myself in that which is the you I have created

but you need to move on

I understand that now

into the beautiful ether…

Into the rest of your own experience

Souls united as ours cannot be separated

in truth

but the tie that binds can be undone

In loving myself I can love you

but letting you go shall be my

most loving action for you.